Random Ruroken Poetry Corner
by Pale Moon Swamp
Summary: A collection of short Rurouni Kenshin poems. In the latest one, "Adorned", The wanderer isn't sure he still knows the way...
1. Yahiko

you'd roll a boulder  
straight up a mountain, simply  
to see what's beneath


	2. Civilian

My eyes see much,  
My ears hear lots,  
My feet are steady,  
My heart is just.

But my voice is not demanding,  
My tongue not sharp,  
My hands aren't swift,  
My arms not strong.

You lend me yours. Thank you, good rurouni.  
Farewell.


	3. A Demon of the Past

Howling and stalking –  
Kenshin had never liked wolves,  
and especially  
one taunted him to no end.  
Oh, Miburu's last  
forever would growl.


	4. Kenshin & Tomoe, a little parody

"How did you two meet?"  
the farmer nosily asked.  
The young man replied:  
"On a rainy Tuesday night  
I picked her up at a bar!"


	5. Kaoru

Your eyes tell stories  
of days you wish had never.  
You don't need to say,  
just let me when you're weary  
lay my arm 'cross your shoulders.


	6. Wandering Alone

The woodland stream  
murmured to him her secrets –  
she'd finally found  
a good and willing listener  
in a wanderer like her.


	7. Traveling West

The sun was hot and he wished for wind  
and a violent storm rolled in,  
his mouth felt dry and he wished for rain  
and buckets of hail fell from the sky.  
His heart felt alone and he wished for company  
and bandits lurked around the bend,  
his eyelids were falling and he wished for a spruce  
and the trees ahead were burnt to the ground.  
His gut told him it was better to persevere  
than to wish for peace of mind and peaceful times.


	8. The Hitokiri

the young swordsman stepped  
over the cooling corpses -  
flicked blood off his blade


	9. Homeward Bound

A/N  
Happy RuroKen Week! This one you'll also find on Tumblr, as a contribution to the party held in honor of RK/the Kenshin-Gumi. The prompt was "friends or family".  
I thought I'd give a go at something a little longer... Feel free to tell me your thoughts on it!

* * *

Homeward Bound

A quiet busyness marked the square  
as vendors were stowing away their goods  
and packing up their barrows for the day,  
taking back whatever had been left;  
sweet cakes, greens, fish, jewelry and tea.

The young man's senses took a beating  
prompting him to hold his breath;  
the dead fish's eyes were staring after him,  
their smell of saltiness gripping him and the sight  
of lives wasted was more than he cared to see.  
A few quick strides and he dared breath again.

The cobstones took him to the Tokyo canal;  
the evening sun hitting the black  
in strokes of yellow and white.  
A live shimmering of colors jumped up,  
happy to be alive another day,  
and dived back into the depths  
of guarded treasures and water weeds.

The splashing water's soft song of rolling ages  
cleansed his mind of troubles and  
he let them float away, on the breeze  
with the scents of brine and death, and in the water  
with the cherry and golden shower blossoms  
that looked like summer's dead butterflies.

He was going the other way; up stream,  
to the source, with the wind brushing his hair  
and his feet and the road guiding him.  
He let a slow smile lighten his features  
for never had he thought  
that they would lead him home.  
He tilted his head and kissed the wind.

A bird behind him flew up to higher grounds  
urged by the neighing of a horse ahead.  
A carriage stopped. "Hello, old friend."  
Along with his troubles and the butterflies,  
the smell of salt and decay, all returning  
to the big open waters, color left him.

The desire to seek refuge underground was eminent.  
He stopped and waited instead,  
for true friends had taught him better than that  
and he was going home, on the wings of bats and eagles,  
with a wish to make life alright  
instead of making death less heavy.  
No man was too great, nor any metal too sharp  
with things of weight and importance to fight for.

The sword and heart that helped life would never be weak.  
"Hello," he said, "come with me and please explain."


	10. 1868

Another one that's a contribution to the RuroKen Week. A lot of creative and artistic RK works have been posted this week, some are just brilliant. Be sure to check them out! :)

* * *

1868

Swift feet softly hit  
the dirt road – he knew his way  
and would follow it,  
even should the road run out  
of cobbles and grit halfway.


	11. On a Crescent Moon Night

The young Moon hung high,  
it was a good night to hunt  
some Ishin Shishi.

Eyes of the same make  
as his blade pierced his foe's heart -  
Kill Evil Swiftly.

Fast as a hawk he  
sent pink blossoms swirling and  
red fluid storming.

The scene quieted,  
petals dancing in the pool.  
A wolf sauntered off.


	12. June 20, Thoughts of a Wanderer

June 20

In this one's life there's  
too few birthdays to repay  
the ones I've stolen.


	13. Farewell

Farewell

Please don't stand on your engawa staring through the gate,  
I've already crossed the outskirts of this town.  
Please don't be in the practice hall fighting off the ghosts,  
my footsteps on the gravel have already swept me far away.  
Please don't walk your way to town sighing at the clouds,  
I'm a sojourner and my home is the road.  
Please don't sit in your kitchen gazing at the leafs in your cup,  
where I'm headed and what I'll find the road only knows.  
Please don't steep the dashi in feelings of misery,  
all of us are on a road and must learn to trust our way.  
Please don't take your buckets to drink from a bitter well,  
in the end it's all travelers who must answer the Road's call.


	14. Adorned

A biting fog wrapped  
itself around the swordsman,  
blurring his vision,  
making him go by his feet's  
memory of summers passed.

Lightly they touched ground –  
cat paws in the snow, leaving  
minimal traces,  
just careful, clean impressions  
on the fragile skin of the Earth.

Wanderer and foe  
danced till water, sweat and blood  
blended into one.

The fog, cunningly  
cast by his opponent, cleared –  
he hadn't dared trust  
his errable mind, but feet  
had held him safely on track.

As the fog lifted,  
the Sun illuminated  
glimmering droplets  
in silver, diamond and gold,  
studding loose hair and torn clothes.


End file.
